


Tell Me Of Him?

by SarkaS



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Bad Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, I mean it's Shimada clan so that's pretty much given, Loss of Limbs, M/M, McHanzo Reverse Bang 2018, Non-Graphic Violence, Okami Hanzo Shimada, Physical Abuse, Servant Jesse McCree, Slave Jesse McCree, basically okami whole shimada family, not too graphic at least but I'm still marking this as mature, okami genji shimada, one limb - jesse's arm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 21:03:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15849321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarkaS/pseuds/SarkaS
Summary: This is a story about a boy taken from his land and family and forced to serve to gods.This is a story about a boy with a heart too kind for his family to accept.This is a story about a boy who believed himself to be right when he was wrong.This is a story about three boys who helped each other to become men.A companion fic for amazing art made by Elijahs_sheep for McReverseBang 2018!





	1. The Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [radio_screams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/radio_screams/gifts).



> I had the honor to be an author for amazing Elijahs_sheep, who created the amazing art you can see here and that deserves so much more than I could write in the limited time I had (the one downside of pinch-hitting, there just isn't enough time to worship the art *cries*). His constant support was invaluable and it made writing this an amazing experience! *all the hugs*

Hanzo huddled closer to the fire, wrapping his arms around himself in a feeble attempt to keep the warmth from being seeped out of his bones by the evening chill.

“It is a lovely night, isn’t it?” Zenyatta asked, his own voice soft and happy. As if he was unburdened by their situation or the fact they had been waiting for more than two days now. They had been far enough from any big towns but Hanzo was always worried they will be found. It wasn’t in their blood to give up.

But he would not be an easy prey. Not now, not when the freedom could be tasted in every breath he took. Each step away bringing more light and joy into his life than he ever thought possible.

“Yes.” He said, voice quiet and tired.

The monk was not put off by his taciturnity, however, taking instead the teapot from where it was standing at the edge of the firepit and filling the small, brown, and slightly chipped bowl with the cheap tea of unidentifiable origin they obtained on their last supply run and passing it to Hanzo. He took it with a grateful nod despite the unpleasant taste of it, the warmth from the bowl instantly spreading through his fingers and palms.

“Would you be willing to tell me more about him, Hanzo-sama?”

The honorific sounded strange coming from this particular human but Hanzo could always appreciative of good manners, even if he knew Genji wished the monk would drop the honorifics altogether. So, he simply nodded and asked. “What it is you wish to know?”

If anyone else asked to know more about Hanzo’s brother so openly, they would most likely never see another sunrise. Anyone taking undue interest in any of them was deemed to be a threat and treated as such. But Zenyatta proved himself several times over by now, and Hanzo understood better than he was willing to admit to whatever bond began to form between Genji and the young monk when they met weeks ago.

Zenyatta smiled, sweet and serene like he was only half awake and the dreams he was having were most pleasant.

“Would you tell me of his heart?” The monk’s smile widened as if at the thought. “I know it is warm and welcoming but you must have seen more of it than anyone else. I do not wish to breach any confidence, but maybe there is something you could share with me?”

The human was clearly trying not to show his eagerness but Hanzo could see right through the clumsy attempts. For some reason, it did not irk him as it normally would. Maybe because he was aware the genuine fondness the monk held towards Hanzo’s younger sibling. Maybe he was just becoming soft. He hoped not.

“His heart. Yes,” Hanzo felt his lips twist into a sad smile. “It is bigger and warmer than mine and it showed on many an occasion, often to a detriment of my brother’s. But nothing indicated his goodness more than his treatment of McCree.”

Hanzo sighed and sipped the hot tea, stopping his lips from curling at the taste and watching from underneath his lashes as the monk leaned forward in rapture.

He supposed there was no harm in sharing more of the story.

 

“Both Genji and I were raised as scions to an old and powerful dynasty. We were brought up with a given set of rules and beliefs. As the oldest, I was under more scrutiny and so those rules were enforced twice as vigorously with me. As for Genji, the main responsibility of making sure he abode by the rules was given to me, as his older brother. It would be unthinkable for us to be taught by humans and the Elders only ever focused on my upbringing.

Unfair you could say, and I often thought so as well but probably for different reasons.”

Hanzo had no desire to admit how jealous he felt of his brother’s freedom most of the time. Or the attention he was receiving from their parents while Hanzo was being molded into the perfect heir by the Elders and on rare occasions by their Father. It would do no good to poke at the old, but scarred over wounds.

“Jesse McCree was a child when we first met him. A servant to our family.” Hanzo’s mind misted over with memories. He could only vaguely recall the boy with shaggy hair and too big eyes, who was looking from one face to the next, only barely understanding what was happening to him. If at all.

For how one comprehends a loss of this magnitude at such a young age?

Hanzo most certainly did not. And neither did Genji. Not until it was explained to them by an adult. Hanzo couldn’t recall by whom exactly but he knew it had to be one of the Elders.

They’d been told that the new boy was a gift to the Master of the Shimada clan from Westerners who wished to maintain a business relationship with the Clan.

Japan opened their door to the Westerners fairly recently at the time and the business could be lucrative for both sides. A substantial part of Japan wished for things the rest of the world had to offer and even if Shimada clan did not, they were good at accumulating power and wealth - and one could not gain either by not adapting.

The gift of a boy, no matter how unwanted, was accepted. Jesse became a fixture in the castle. The lowest of the low. A property.

Another lost soul paid as s homage to the gods, no matter how unwittingly.

 

_The Shimadas masked themselves with a glamour while dealing with most mortals. But during their ordinary days behind the castle walls? They were free to be themselves._

_For a boy who was taken, enslaved, and transported to a whole new country he did not understand and that did not understand him, that was the last straw._

_The moment Jesse McCree saw the scions of the Shimada dynasty in their true forms for the first time, he paled, his eyes rolled to the heavens, and he dropped with a thud, not unlike a falling trunk of a dead tree, just much less heavy._

_Genji was the one who darted to his side, trying to help._

_“Do you think he injured himself? What do we do? Hanzo!”_

_Hanzo hissed at his brother to not kneel next to the servant. To not touch him. But he was soundly ignored, as Genji’s hands hovered fairly uselessly over the prone form, trying to get Hanzo to help as well._

_It took some time but eventually, the strange boy with too dark skin and too round eyes woke. And proceeded to yelp at the sight of the two of them leaning over him._

_Any assistance Genji wished to provide became even more complicated when they realized the boy did not understand them._

_Hanzo was appalled. For what use they had for a servant who could not do as he was told?_

_“Genji, stop wasting your time. We have to go back to training.”_

_But his brother soundly ignored Hanzo’s command, refusing to give up. He made wild gestures with his hands and molded his face into over the top expressions until the boy in front of them managed to pick on his desire to help and that they meant him no harm._

_The smile he gave them was minuscule and shaky at best but it made Genji beam._

 

“Where I accepted McCree’s place without question or a second thought. Genji befriended him. Even if it meant going against the rules.”

Hanzo no longer focused on the monk. He was staring into the flames, recalling all the situations where he succumbed to the influence of the Elders. Letting them form him into a harsh man bordering on cruel. “I did not care.”

“Did you not?” The monk asked, his tone soft. “Or did you only cared less than Genji-sama?”

Hanzo scoffed and shot a narrow-eyed glare at Zenyatta, baring his teeth just enough to be taken seriously. “Do not twist my words, human. I meant what I said.” He frowned at the flames. “I did not care.”

In fact, Hanzo forbid himself from caring. What Genji had been doing was wrong in his eyes.

Hanzo couldn’t even say he was looking away from Jesse’s struggle because he was so completely unaware there _was_ a struggle. Genji learned only too quickly not to tell his older brother about his excursions to the servant quarters or his attempts to help Jesse learn the language and fit in a bit more easily.

Not that any of what Genji did could escape Hanzo’s notice.

“I did not care for a very long time.”

 

He barely even remember who the boy was the first time he was assigned as their personal servant inside the castle grounds. At their beck and call day or night while still performing his usual duties of which Hanzo knew nothing about.

It shocked him, though, when Genji first spoke English to the servant in front of Hanzo. He could recall his harsh reaction and the ensuing argument while the servant boy paled with terror at the magic and vitriol swirling and mixing in the air as Hanzo and Genji bared their teeth at each other, ears lying flat against their heads.

They had been both punished that day. Not for the unspeakable degradation of using such unsophisticated language and accommodating an unimportant scum - luckily no one learned about that - but for losing their tempers so badly and with it their hold on their powers. The damage was substantial.

It took several days before they could stomach each other’s company. But that experience ensured Hanzo remembered the existence of that particular servant if nothing else.

Hanzo took another sip, forcefully making himself step out of the trap of old memories, steering his attention back to the present moment.

Zenyatta was still patiently waiting for him to continue.

“I consider it unfortunate for Genji to had been born into our family. Unfortunate for him, that is. With his soft heart, he was set up for disappointment since he took his first breath in this world. For there weren’t many things to be considered more useless or despicable in the Clan’s eyes than kindness. And when in time they discovered they could not uproot it from him no matter what, they began to despise him.

Not publicly, he was still one of the scions after all, but that hardly made any difference.”

In those days Hanzo was wrapped tight in their webs of rules and teachings. Sticky lies that made it hard for him to breathe or see through. But he had not known a different way of life, so he did not defy them. For the longest time not realizing how false their words have been.

With the distance of years, Hanzo could see why Genji and McCree gravitated towards each other. How they could find solace in each other’s company, despite the glaring differences in station and style of life.

But the more the Elders turned on Genji, the less hard was Hanzo on this ridiculous friendship. Even supporting it from time to time by creating opportunities for the two youngsters to spend time together. More so after particularly nasty clashes with the rest of the family.

But that was as far as he was willing to go. Often his disapproval for the relationship between those two had won over his indulgence for his younger sibling. Making itself known and pushing them into arguments and even fights. And not once Hanzo spared a thought to the servant himself.

“Genji-sama had mentioned he had not spent much time in your home… after your mother’s passing.”

“That is true. At some point, he realized there will never be anything he could do to change the way our family perceived him and decided he no longer cared to try and change their mind. Instead, he turned to humans. Particularly to those who lived behind the castle walls. It was their approval and care he craved. In those days I had not seen him very often.” Hanzo put the empty bowl down, entwining his now warm fingers together and leaning his elbows against his knees.

 

Unsurprisingly, Genji would still spend time with Jesse, even as he avoided everyone else. It got to the point where Hanzo began to call upon the servant for one reason or another in hopes he would see Genji more often. He missed his little brother, no matter how much he tried to pretend he did not. The loss of their mother and the strife in the family grated at Hanzo in many ways. The Elders made a point of pushing harder than ever, intentionally separating him from Genji during those rare moments the brothers could be together. Planting seeds of doubt and contempt into his heart. For some time, much to Hanzo’s shame, they were even successful.

But Hanzo learned to tolerate and on rare occasions even appreciate the closeness of the servant who was often his only company as Hanzo worked to fulfill his duties.

McCree would spend hours just standing in the background or helping with whatever Hanzo pointed out in respectful silence, only ever replying when he was asked a question but never truly divulging anything about himself.

Not that Hanzo cared to know anything about the servant. Or not at first.

It sneaked upon him - the curiosity, the need to know more. Something. Anything.

His mind began to wander towards the young man at the most inopportune of moments. What does he like? What does he dislike? What does he think about his situation? What does he feel? What interests him?

It irked and intrigued Hanzo equally. And it also distracted him from the constantly thickening atmosphere of the castle.

 

_But then the day came when their Father turned against the youngest Shimada as well._

_Hanzo had no idea what the reason for the scorn aimed towards Genji was but at that point, it hardly mattered._

_He hadn’t been there, couldn’t intervene. It wasn’t until he heard the commotion in his brother’s room that he learned what had transpired and at that point, there was nothing he could do._

_Genji hurled words like shurikens, his anger palpable and it took some time for Hanzo to understand what he was saying._

_Their Father ordered for Genji to be held in the Castle, no longer was the youngest Shimada allowed to leave the grounds, under the threat of severe punishment. And so when the guards caught Genji trying to leave as he so often did, they wanted to drag him in front of the Elders or maybe even Sojiro himself._

_Except then from somewhere Jesse had appeared and in a show of clumsiness neither of the brothers could recall ever seeing before, he splashed most of the guards with something reeking of piss._

_It made them forget about Genji in an instant and focus all their ire on the servant._

_Genji was pacing across his room as he described the happenings to Hanzo, before stopping and turning to him._

_“Please, brother, you have to go see him! You have to make sure he is alright and they did not hurt him too badly!”_

_Hanzo bit his lip as he contemplated it, but Genji was relentless._

_“We both know they will be watching me, now. I cannot endanger him by checking on him myself.” Which was true and it made something in Hanzo knot hard enough he felt sick. But Hanzo was free to move as he pleased._

_Hanzo nodded with a heavy heart. He might not be fond of their friendship but the servant helped Genji even when he had to know how it will go for him. For that and to lift Genji’s spirit he agreed to help this one time._

 

_When eventually Hanzo found the servant, it was not where he expected him to be. It turned out Jesse never lived in the servant quarters with the rest of the help._

_No, they despised the boy for what he was. A property. Too low even for the poorest of servant girls to treat him as their equal._

_The room Jesse slept in could barely be called that. It was tiny. Maybe a child could fit but not an adult, and certainly not one as tall and broad as Jesse grew up to be._

_Jesse lifted his head when the_ shōji _slid aside and Hanzo managed to catch a glimpse of horror before the man was facing the ground again._

_“Young master,” he breathed quietly. “What can I do for you?”_

_Hanzo frowned and knelt down, peering into the face hidden mostly in a dark. The only light source was a small candle in a cracked bowl next to Jesse’s left knee. It barely lit anything but Hanzo had little problems with seeing in the dark. And what he saw was worse than what he expected._

_Jesse’s face was littered with scrapes and bruises, one eye swollen shut, split lip, a gash on his forehead that probably still bled until very recently and he was leaning towards one side - Hanzo expected he had some of his ribs bruised if not broken._

_Hanzo felt his heart sink with sudden heaviness. He had no idea what he expected Jesse’s life to be but this wasn’t it. Other servants had good lives, he knew that much. The position of a servant in the Shimada Castle was most coveted amongst the humans living in Hanamura._

_Hanzo reached for Jesse’s face and the man’s eye widened. “Don’t!” he breathed out and it made Hanzo freeze, despite the outrageousness of a servant speaking to him in such a manner. Somehow it suddenly didn’t matter._

_“You are not treated well,” Hanzo said, fully realizing how damning his own words were. Not just to the Elders, his Father, and everyone else in the castle but to him as well. He chose long ago not to care and there was no excuse for him now._

_The man in front of him looked nothing like the servant Hanzo was used to seeing. Gone was his calm mask and constant upturn to his lips. He was as far from stoic and collected as Hanzo ever saw him and it made him feel raw. Guilty._

_His fingers overcame the last bit of distance, grazing the one unbruised spot on the man’s chin and ever so slightly angling it upward, too afraid he could add to the pain._

_Jesse’s lips trembled now as he parted them. “P-please, let go.”_

_Hanzo did. He did not wish to, but the sight of tears slipping from under the now tightly shut lid made him jerk away._

_He balled his fingers into fists by his sides, feeling helpless and hating it._

_“Why do you stay?” he asked instead. Teeth grinding as he did. Gods, he did not understand this human at all!_

_The servant blinked at him, astonished._

_“Master?”_

_Did the title always sound so wrong?_

_“You could run. Genji would help you.”_ I would help you _, Hanzo thought, surprising himself._

_But even more surprising was the defiance shining through Jesse’s expression. The stubborn set of his chin and squared shoulders. For a moment he looked almost intimidating._

_“My place is here.”_

 

 

And that was that. Hanzo could not help the fond smile stretching his lips at the memory. The pure outrage McCree expressed at a mere suggestion of leaving and not caring for their comfort any longer. Hanzo was flabbergasted and it took him embarrassingly long time to get on the top of the situation again, making sure at least McCree’s wounds were taken care of, no matter how the man protested.

A lot changed that day.

Somehow McCree was no longer just a servant to him and Hanzo stopped forbidding himself to care. It might have been too little and too late but to him breaking the rules he abode by for so long felt exhilarating and most importantly freeing.

On the other hand, the freedom he was so jealous of during their time growing up had been taken away from Genji. A twisted balance Hanzo hated. But he also knew his brother better than most and Genji would not be willing to give it up so easily.

“His freedom was after that always temporary and dearly paid.” Hanzo’s voice was dark, the flicker of amusement at McCree’s resilience vanishing under the rest of the memories from that time. “Whatever joy Genji experienced behind the walls? It was nothing compared to the punishment it would bring him later. Yet, he persisted. Over and over he would run into streets of Hanamura and beyond just to be caught and dragged back into the hands of those he called family. Beatings, lashings, after a certain point the boundaries disappeared.”

The day had come when they put the whip into Hanzo’s hand. The bile still rose in his throat every time he remembered.

Genji’s wide-eyed stare as Hanzo pulled his arm back in a swing only for it to stop and tremble like an arm of an old woman. He heard the order barked by their Father to do as he was told and seen Genji’s gaze harden, giving him an imperceptible nod of encouragement.

They would both be punished if he disobeyed. Probably in much worse ways.

It did not make it any easier to obey.

“Neither of us ever expected McCree to intervene again. We both forbade it after the first time.”

But the memory of the servant leaping forward, standing between the two brothers with his arms spread to shield Genji was fresh in Hanzo’s mind as if it happened just that morning, not nearly two years ago.

 _“You are a cruel man, Shimada!”_ The lowly but loyal servant spat out in the direction of Sojiro. The beat of shock following that statement was the only moment of absolute silence Hanzo ever experienced.

The yelling and outrage that followed were the loudest.

Genji was not lashed that day by Hanzo’s or anyone else’s hand. They were ordered away, just as McCree was dragged from their sight.

“The next time we saw him, most of his left arm was gone.”

Zenyatta’s voice trembled when he asked. “Was that when you decided to leave?”

Hanzo considered it. Was it?

It was an immense shock to both brothers to see Jesse again, hard at work, paler than ever before, with one arm nearly all gone and covered in bloodied bandages.

Genji screamed into Hanzo’s chest that night, beating his fists against it. Enraged and devastated for his best friend. Hanzo pressed those few silent tears he allowed himself into Genji’s hair, with the younger man no wiser for it.

After, Hanzo spent most of his nights visiting Jesse, taking care of the man no matter how much he protested.

He brought food, better medicine, potions to help with the pain, and redressed the stump as it was needed.

Not once were they disturbed by someone else checking on Jesse.

No one came to help him.

Hanzo was frustrated and furious with the lack of care the rest of the humans showed towards their own. Ranting to Genji about it on several occasions, which only earned him bemused looks and an occasional pat on the shoulder.

But as time passed things were becoming more and more difficult for all of them. Genji was now all but a pariah in the family, very nearly locked in his room unless there were duties he was forced to perform.

Jesse was no longer permitted anywhere near the family’s living spaces, only used to cater to the guards and to take care of the grounds.

And Hanzo’s duties were tripled and nearly impossible to fit into one day. He was considered the only scion of the dynasty, now, and was treated as such.

He abhorred it.

But was it the last straw? “I cannot tell,” he shook his head slowly. “It all felt like too much at the time and I am not even sure who was the first to come up with the idea of escape, me or Genji.”

The monk’s eyes were dark pools reflecting the flickering fire and it nearly, _nearly_ made him feel like something more than a simple human. But then his lips quirked into a smile and he tilted his head like a curious bird.

“You have undergone quite the journey, Hanzo-sama.”

Hanzo huffed, a derisive sound cutting through the crackle of the burning wood. He was well aware his journey was one of an unwilling fool being dragged against his will by those who knew better and cared for him too much to let him rot alive in his old life.

“It was nearly too late,” he admitted. “For all of us. They nearly managed to break both, Genji’s heart and spirit. To make me their obedient puppet. And to convince McCree he deserved nothing but abuse.”

A long silence took over the small camp. Hanzo’s thoughts turned towards the aforementioned escape.

 

_Genji and Hanzo planned the escape for months, slowly and carefully gathering anything they could be needing to survive in the world they had never really seen before. Their sheltered lives were even more of a curse than they believed until now._

_But in the end, there was one thing they did not account for._

_Jesse._

_It was barely strange, now, for Hanzo to appear in Jesse’s tiny room. Yet the servant instantly straightened up, his forehead scrunching as he looked up at Hanzo._

_“What’s wrong, young master?” he asked immediately. Hanzo could not get him to drop the title but at least Jesse was now willing to speak first and not just wait to be spoken to._

_Hanzo reached a hand to him, pleased to see Jesse did not flinch away. Unsurprisingly, touches became rather normal between them during the time Hanzo took care of the man. “I would like you to come with me.”_

_Jesse sprung to his feet, only lightly grasping the outstretched hand to keep his balance. It was often still problematic for him to compensate for the lack of weight on his left side. “Of course, where to?”_

_Hanzo let himself grin. “Away, Jesse. We are leaving tonight.”_

_What he did not expect was for Jesse to pull his hand away and take the step and a half he could until his back hit the wall, shaking his head. “No!”_

_Hanzo hissed at him to keep his voice down before asking. “Why not? You would have us stay here? Do you not see what they are doing to us, me, Genji,_ and _you?”_

_“But our place is here.” Jesse protested. “You- you don’t know what’s out there. Neither do I. What will we do? How will we live? No, we should stay here.”_

_Hanzo scowled. “This is a cage, Jesse. A cage that will either break us or kill us. We have to leave.”_

_He could hear the breath catch in Jesse’s throat before it rushed out from between his lips in a whoosh. “B-but Genji. You cannot leave him. I cannot-”_

_“Genji is already gone,” Hanzo said briskly, trying not to dwell on the realization Jesse still thought of him as a selfish creature that would abandon the person most dear to him. Jesse was staring now and Hanzo explained as quickly as possible. “I prepared a distraction for the guards beforehand. Big enough to hold them long enough for Genji to get away with all the things we packed. But that time will run out soon and we have to go_ now _if we are to get away unnoticed.”_

 _“I-” Jesse gulped, his eyes flicking from Hanzo to the open_ sh ō ji _and back faster than wings of a hummingbird._

_“Jesse, please.” Hanzo dropped any last tatters of pretense he clung to. “Please do not force me to leave you behind to die. Please.”_

_A beat. Two beats. And then Jesse was rushing around him, bending down to pull something from the rags on the floor and wedging it safely into his clothes._

_“Alright, let us go.”_

_The relief nearly made Hanzo’s knees weak and he couldn’t stop the beaming smile, grabbing Jesse’s hand and pulling him out of the baren little room._

__

 

“But it wasn’t late and here you are. Whole and free. You should not be so hard on yourself, Hanzo-sama. Your heart isn’t smaller or colder than your brother’s.”

Hanzo huffed in obvious disbelief but didn’t argue. Zenyatta wasn’t the first one sharing this sentiment with him. Maybe they were right, maybe they weren’t. He didn’t feel qualified enough to judge. Instead, he put another log on the fire and nodded towards the bedrolls.

“You should go to sleep. I will take the first watch, tonight.” Hanzo did not feel like talking anymore. Revisiting the happening of the past was always draining, even if he did not share _that_ much with the monk. Thought the amount of information shared still felt gargantuan to him. Genji would laugh at him if he was here. Socializing was not Hanzo's strong suit.

The monk hummed gratefully and quickly did as Hanzo told him, pulling his blanket up to his ears, with his back turned towards the firepit. Only his bald, shiny head poking out.

Hanzo watched the flames dance for a few moments longer before he stretched across his own bedroll where a heavy leather satchel laid, pulling out a small, well-used book. Without any prompting, it opened on a page near the end.

It was in Japanese but a few lines in and anyone half versed in Japanese literature would be able to tell it wasn’t written by a Japanese. It was a collection of poems from the western part of Asia, Hanzo did not know which part and he did not care that much, anyway.

It held a meaning to him because it belonged to McCree, who shared it with him, in spite of it being the only possession he could call his.

It was given to the servants, McCree had told him, along with some other books over the time, most of them translations. For no matter how things changed, foreign things were not worthy to be a part of the great library in the Shimada Castle. The only reason they weren’t burned or tossed out like a trash was that they were gifted to the Master of the Shimada clan.

McCree admitted to Hanzo it meant more to him than just a book, though he did enjoy the poems themselves and reading them aloud was calming to him. But mostly it was foreign, dressed in Japanese but still unfitting and unwanted. Yet kept out of courtesy and made useful. Just like Jesse.

As much as Hanzo’s mind struggled with the idea of McCree reading poems when he first took the book in hand, understanding it was much more painful.

Now, it was a solace to Hanzo. When both McCree and Genji were away and he had to stay behind, waiting for their return, this book calmed his fears just as it used to do for McCree.

Hanzo pressed his nose to the pages, he did not have to imagine McCree’s scent, this small thing was saturated with it after being its owners only companion for so long.

He breathed out, making himself comfortable, and starting from the beginning. He had a whole night after all.


	2. Epilog

 

“When he walked by

  
The beauty fascinated us, oh my Love!   
Something captivated us in the moment   
A branch that started to bend as soon as it came to life   
Oh my destiny and the reason of my confusion!

  
Who will relieve my sufferance...   
caused by love... and listen to my complaining?   
Except for the King of Beauty”

Hanzo kept his eyes closed for a few moments longer, fighting down the warmth spreading through his cheeks as a rough finger traced the line of his ear, and only flinching little at the teasing pinch to its tip. He growled and at quiet but still deep laugh sounding over him.

“Why did you stop?” Hanzo asked, sliding one eye open and peering up into McCree’s face.

The man held the book in his new prosthetic hand, while the flesh one was combing through Hanzo’s white hair.

“I got better things to look at than a book,” McCree said with a soft smile, making the blush win this round.

Genji and McCree came back in the late morning with enough supplies that should last them for the rest of the journey to the Shambali monastery where Zenyatta was heading and where he said they could stay and be safe.

After two years of life on the run, a safe place sounded like a fairy tale but the monk assured them it was not. His older brother Mondata who was the head of the monastery was kind and welcoming to all strangers no matter who they were or what their past was. And the monastery was remote enough for them to not be easily found, were the Shimadas send someone after them even across the sea and deep into the Himalayas.

Hanzo could barely wait for them to stop running. As it were, they could afford to stay in this camp for the rest of the day and maybe a day more but they decided to hit the road again in the morning, so the two could rest for at least a day but they wouldn’t take too much of a risk by staying too long.

Right now, Genji was somewhere with Zenyatta, taking a walk, or maybe meditating, Hanzo could not begin to guess. But his brother took a liking to the monk nearly instantly and Hanzo found it barely surprising, their spirits were both kind and warm. He was glad that his brother had found someone to hold dear. It made him feel moderately less guilty about stealing all McCree’s time for himself.

He still felt shocked at times when the truth hit him all over again, that despite everything, McCree chose to entrust his heart to Hanzo, who mistreated it so badly in the past.

“Why are you frowning?” McCree asked, smoothing the wrinkles with his fingers. The rasp of the rough skin against his face was an exquisite feeling. If Hanzo had been a _bakeneko_ he would be purring. Not that he would ever consider it possible for himself to become something as lowly as a _y_ _ō_ _kai_.

“I think I am very lucky.”

McCree chuckled. “And how is that a reason to frown?”

Hanzo opened his eyes to find McCree’s again. They were smiling down at him as if he was the miracle here.

“I do not deserve it.”

McCree sighed but didn’t stop smiling. “Yes, you do.” It was hardly the first time they had this discussion. It used to be more of an argument but not anymore. Hanzo couldn’t quite remember when it changed. But he was no longer willing to fight about it, resigned to the knowledge that McCree refused to blame him for any past mistreatments, true or imagined.

He felt himself relax into the touches, letting the frown finally melt away.

“McCree,” he let out softly, tasting the name on his tongue, enjoying how it felt passing his lips.

In the past, he would not believe there was a single word that could encompass all the good things in the world. Happiness. Freedom. Forgiveness. Even love. But that was before the man next to him decided to share it with him.

McCree was fully aware that the only reason why was allowed to keep the name _Jesse_ was that no one could be bothered to come up with a new one for him. And when he told him that, Hanzo couldn’t really argue.

His family name, on the other hand? That did not exist to anyone but him for the longest time. He remembered, though. Or he thought he did. It was so long since the last time he heard it and he could be remembering it wrong. But it hardly mattered. Some time into their journey westward he explained it to the brothers.

He dwelled on it because the memories of his family were slowly reduced to uncomprehensible foggy smudges as the time passed. A note of laughter here, a glint of dark eyes there. Nothing concrete or tangible. And so the name it was. It encompassed everything about his past he was not allowed to talk about or even acknowledge during his time of service. He belonged to the Master of the Shimada clan, he came to terms with that years ago. Yet a part of him still fought not to forget those long past years of freedom, far, far away. He felt he owed it those who gave him life. No matter how the life turned out to be.

McCree, he told them as they laid by the fire, looking up at the wast sky littered with stars he didn’t know the names of. McCree. _McCree._

After that, no one used the name Jesse ever again.

That last bit of chain left behind added a spring to McCree’s step and joy that shone through every time one of them called upon him by his family name.

It was very much the opposite of what the brothers wished for themselves but that did not make them understand and respect it any less.

And every time Hanzo uttered the name, he savored it, thanking all the gods above and below that McCree entrusted him this precious bit of his soul.

“I love you too,” McCree whispered back to him, putting the book aside and pulling Hanzo closer, so they could rest together, blissfully warm and free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 'poem' are lyrics from a song called Lamma Bada Yatathana.


End file.
